


I PICK AN AG-E W)(-EN I'M GONNA DISAPP-EAR -- (Until then I can try again)

by Kealpos



Category: Homestuck
Genre: After the first assassination attempt against Feferi, Gen, I allow you the privilege of using your imagination to find out how it went down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kealpos/pseuds/Kealpos
Summary: The moon shines down on your soaked body. You think you're gonna die, though you know you won't after just narrowly avoiding it, not for the first time, but the first time targeted at you directly.Your name is Feferi Peixes, and Her Imperious Condescension has just attempted to get a Violet Blood to assassinate you.





	I PICK AN AG-E W)(-EN I'M GONNA DISAPP-EAR -- (Until then I can try again)

Your hair is dripping down across your face as you pull yourself out of the water. Your clothing is soaked and you feel cold even through your thick gray skin. There’s a bruise forming on your cheek and there’s pink blood dripping down your arm.

You can see the undead and desperate lowblood trolls shambling around on the rest of the land, but they’re clearly avoiding Eridan’s section, though if it’s because of water or the fact that he has measures set up to kill them off quickly.

Your name is FEFERI PEIXES and you have just survived your first BASSASSINATION ATTEMPT.

What will you do?

==> Freak the hell out.

NO!!! You are NOT going to freak out right now. Not until you’re out of the freezing cold. You move a piece of hair away from your eyes and squint down at the ground. Eridan’s is just a few feet ahead of you, but you feel like you can’t walk anymore. The adrenaline is slowly, slowly, flooding out of your body, and you realize you probably have a broken rib.

She’s a coward, but maybe so are you. She sent a violet blood, all gold and purple and deliriously messy. Who did he think he was kidding? She just wanted to show you she was watching. You’ve researched the fuschia bloods in the past, somehow not scrubbed from history. Whether to dissuade you from thinking too far ahead or a nautical error on her part, you don’t know. All you know is that you have studied the past and have condemned yourself to a life of partial solitude. Your predecessor, an heiress named Trizza Tethis, was open and using resources. She was killed off in a total of five minutes. She barely even put up a fight.

You trudge over to the door of his home and knock hard. There are tears forming in your eyes. If you were any of the others (Twelve, you whisper, twelve, like a prayer. You will not be thirteen.) she wouldn’t have bothered. You are not like the others. You have no holes to shove into, no exploitations except plans and friends and why would she bother with any of them when she knows you’ll just mourn and train even harder?

Eridan has his stupid gun in his hand when he opens the door but his grip softens when he sees you and he holds you tight once you stumble into his grip. You are four and a half sweeps old and she is ancient and the entire world is resting on your shoulders.

Eridan wraps his scarf over those shoulders instead, and looks for a med kit. Your blood eats you from the inside out and you fidget with your necklace. You promise yourself you will see her die. You swear you will live longer than she will.

Guilt eats you alive when you tell Eridan about how you culled that man, but he just shrugs and says that at least your mom got a little snack. You feel fear well up in your gills, but he brushes your hair and you’ve got better things to fear that you just nod along and agree when he says you need to plan for more attempts.

Vriska messages him while you’re recuperating. When he mentions you, she berates you for getting hurt. You threaten her with your trident. There’s still violet blood on it, and you think that if she were here to see it, she might respect you more. Anything that shows you can fight. You’re not like her but you are like her. You’re too bruised to care, but you know you will in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr is www.don-lockwood.tumblr.com


End file.
